“Can we get the beer first?” He’d need to be lit up when Aphrodite lost her mind about this latest infraction.
“Does it have to be Atlantis?” Her mouth thinned.
“Yes. They keep the best ambrosia on tap.” He narrowed his eyes. “What’s your sudden hard on against Atlantis?” It was his favorite club.
“Hercules is going to be there. Like he is every night that ends in ‘y’.”
Ares laughed. “You were so drunk.”
“Yeah, you could’ve been my wingman. But nooooo, you had to let me go home with Muscles McDouche.”
He already felt guilty about that. He’d tried to stop her. He knew it was a bad choice, but like any of the goddesses in his life, he didn’t get to make choices for them. As much as he wished he could.
“Listen—” Ares held his hands up in mock-surrender. “I tried. And what was it you told me?” He pretended to try to remember. “Oh, that’s right. You said you were more of a god than me and I could cup the balls and work the shaft.”
“Since when do you ever listen to me?” Morri made a sound that on any other person might have been a whine.
“Oh, what? Was I supposed to run in like some knuckle-dragging jealous boyfriend and forcibly remove you from my nephew? You say all the time that I’m a chauvinist—”
“Of all the times you choose to actually listen to me, it would be the one time I was wrong.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Only one? I seem to remember you going out with Odin that one time.”
“It wasn’t a date. At least not for me. Corv had a date with Odin’s twin ravens.”
Ares rolled his eyes. Sometimes, he despised that bird. “You know, you’re like the scary cat lady with that bird. I’m surprised you haven’t gone with Aphrodite and Hera to get their hair done and gotten the bird’s done too.”
Corvinus perked. “I want to get my feathers conditioned.”
“And why aren’t you blaming him for the Hercules Hoedown? He was just as culpable.”
“Was not,” the bird squawked.
“Speaking of, off with you.” Morri said. “Go on. Go do something on your own.”
“Don’t want to.” The bird ruffled his feathers.
“Yes, you do. You could go hang out with Quetzalcoatl?” The Aztec snake god could just eat him and then Ares wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore.
“Still going to peck your eyes out.” He gave Ares a nip and flew away.
“After all this time, why can’t the two most important males in my life play nice?” Morri shook her head.
“Because he doesn’t want to share, and I can’t blame him. Neither do I.” He had no trouble admitting he didn’t like sharing Morri’s attention.
“What are you going to do if I get married?”
“Pout a lot, get drunk, start some wars,” he confessed with a wide grin. She probably thought he was kidding, but the idea of Morri giving all of her time and attention to someone else made him want to blow something up.
“You have no shame.”
“Nor should I. I was here first.”
“What about you ‘just want me to be happy?’ Can we have a dose of that?” She cocked her head to the side.
“Let’s be honest.” He usually was with her. He didn’t have to sugarcoat anything with Morri. “I want you to be happy, but happy being single.”
“You’re a dick.”
“I know.” He flashed her a grin that he knew even she found irresistible.
“Fine. I’m glad you and Aphrodite broke up. How’s that feel?” She shoved him.
That was not what he expected. He frowned. How did it feel? Uncomfortable. He didn’t want to think about it. “Now you’re just being perverse.”
“You’re right.” She flashed his own grin right back at him. “I am. Are you sure you want to take me to Atlantis? Like you said, I’m feeling perverse. I might even wear a dress.”
They were all fucked.
2
MORRI
“L et’s not be hasty,” he said.
Yeah, so she was going to wear a dress. So what? Why did everyone always forget that she was more than a war goddess? She wasn’t a god, she wasn’t a male, she was every inch as much of a female as Aphrodite was.
She had a woman’s needs.
A woman’s wants.
And godsdamn, if she wanted to wear a dress, she’d wear a dress.
Served Ares right for dragging her to Atlantis anyway.
Stupid club.
Stupid Hercules.
And most of all, stupid Morri. What was she thinking?
To be honest with herself, she was thinking that she needed to put some distance between herself and Ares. She’d been having… thoughts. Terrible, awful, apocalyptic thoughts. About him—her best friend.
No one could deny he was hot as that lake of fire in Hades’ backyard. Not only was he built like…well, a god, but he was War. There was just something about war gods that did it for her. Of course, all the gods she was into seemed to be bad news. That thing with Thor… she wouldn’t even think about that.
War gods were bad for her, but they were the only gods who ever seemed to be stronger than she was. That was important to Morri, being a strong female, she didn’t want a god she could run roughshod over, someone who gave her what she wanted or tried to please her because they feared her. She wanted them to do things for her because they wanted to.
Being a goddess was tough. She had responsibilities. Morri needed to know that if something happened to her, if she couldn’t perform her duties that her god could shoulder her burdens as well as his own.
The only one who’d ever come close was Ares. He was always there for her, no matter what she needed. Oh, he was a slick-talking manwhore to be sure, a little bit selfish, but deep down, Morri knew he cared for her.
Her nipples tightened remembering the heat of his gaze on her cleavage and she suddenly wished Corvinus was here to peck some sense into her head. She needed to stop thinking about Ares like this. It would go away, if she ignored it.
Just like it had before.
Once, when she was very young, when he and Aphrodite were on one of their infamous breaks, she’d gotten a case of the bean for him.
And he for her.
He’d almost kissed her.
But she’d stopped him by saying that Aphrodite wouldn’t be comfortable with their relationship once they got back together. He hadn’t even tried to deny they would get back together. From then on out, it’d been strictly platonic.
Until recently.
She’d started fantasizing about that time, when their eyes had locked and the tension between them was so taught, it was an iron chain drawing them closer together, toward the inevitable crash of their mouths… Her cheeks heated.
Morri was sure she just needed to get laid and that’s what she’d do tonight. She’d go home with someone—someone who wasn’t Hercules—and she’d scratch the itch that had infected her brain with the insanity that made her lust after Ares.
It would serve him all kinds of right of she really girled it up. No reason she should have to suffer alone.
Pink might be pushing it, but she decided fuck it.
“Why not? How about this?” She twirled herself into a dress. A dress she knew looked good on her. It was a rockabilly number, baby pink, a tailored bodice with a flouncy skirt and tulle underskirt. She added black seamed stockings and a pair of pink spectator heels.
Her cleavage was amazing, if she did say so herself.
The rolled sleeves on the dress both added to her femininity and enhanced her gun show, which was also pretty amazing. She liked her body. She was curvy, but strong. Feminine, and powerful.
“No.” He set his jaw and looked away from her.
She laughed. “What do you mean, no? No?”
“No.” He shook his head. “Just no. You don’t look like Morri.”
“Yes, I do. I never look like anyone but myself.” A smirk c
urved her lips.
“You know what I mean.”
Yeah, she did know what he meant. “Is this better?”
She turned herself into a wizened crone—she was a triplicate goddess, after all. The maiden—the ideals of young men going to war, the mother—the hearth, and the crone—the death that came to all things.
He wrinkled his nose. “Okay, I can’t have you skewing my street cred like that at Atlantis.”
“I guess that’s all there is for it then, huh?” She zapped herself back to pinup hot. “Oh, I know what I forgot. Pearls!” She raised her hand to zap herself a necklace, but he grabbed her hand.
“You really did know what I was thinking earlier.” He searched her face.
His eyes seemed to touch her everywhere, roving over her with as much intensity as if it had been his hands on her flesh. If the moment hadn’t suddenly turned so intense, she might’ve laughed. She still might.
Morri had to break the tension building between them. She’d sought it out, but usually when they played these games, he didn’t try to tell her what he was thinking. It was just a battle of the snark. She couldn’t let things get serious or she’d end up confessing the way she’d been thinking of him and their friendship would be over.
She’d become an “other.” A woman he’d used to slake his lust and his sorrow. Then they’d lose the intimacy, their friendship. How stupid was it that sex with him would ruin their relationship instead of making it stronger, making it grow?
Morri sighed. “Only that I shouldn’t have told you to look at my breasts and once you did, I wasn’t Morri anymore, but a pair of great tits. Yeah, I know how your mind works.”
He looked pained. “You’re always Morri.” His fingers still encircled her wrist, but she wasn’t inclined to pull away.
“Then don’t leave me without my jewelry to finish the look. Ante up. It’s the least you can do, since you’re dragging me to Atlantis.”
“Are you really asking me for a pearl necklace?” He arched a dark brow.
She laughed. “I guess I did. But if you don’t want to give it to me, I can procure it myself.” Morri smiled and he released her wrist. “Pink, if you please.” She pointed at her collarbone.
He recovered quickly and gave her a cocky wink. “I might write Penthouse Forum.”
“You do that.” She grinned. “But afterwards, Aphrodite would never believe you didn’t give me the dirty version.”
He wore a serious expression. “I’ll have you know any pearls I’ve ever given a woman have always been clean.”
“Well, are you going to give me my necklace, or shall I do it myself?” she prompted, trying not to think about anything beyond getting the best of him in their verbal sparring match.
“Do it yourself.” He winked. “Your dick is probably bigger than mine anyway.”
“It is at that.” The necklace appeared around her throat, a triple strand of pink seed pearls.
He stared at her again. “You’re really a lovely goddess, Morri.”
It wasn’t a compliment. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s a terrible thing. Let’s go back to the crone.” He nodded.
“This breakup has you fucked in the head, bro.” She elbowed him. “If you cockblock me, so help me…” Morri put her hands on her hips.
He nodded. “I know. Maybe you could wear something else?”
“No.”
“What if I said it made you look fat?”
“I’d punch your dick with my fat fist. And so what if it did make me look fat? What’s wrong with fat? As if I, and all other creatures were put on this earth to fit your standard of beauty—”
“Whoa!” He held up his hands. “Whoa.” He made the motion of pressing against the air, as if that would stem the waves of her tirade. “It was just self-preservation. You know I enjoy all women. You look too damn good. All the gods in there are going to be fighting for a piece of you and, like I said, you’re mine. You know I’m territorial. I might try to put my mark on you.” He smirked again.
“You’ll try and fail miserably.”
“Really?” He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her hard against him.
She refused to be caught up in the sensation, the feeling of him. Morri stood her ground. In fact, she did better than stand her ground. She pressed into him, and it wasn’t some weak-kneed melting against him. It was aggressive and predatory.
“Don’t fuck with me, Ares. Or I’ll use weapons against you that you don’t even have in your arsenal.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?” His eyes darkened at the challenge, his body strung tight, muscles bulging and veins suddenly prominent under his skin. It was like she’d just shot him up with some kind of a drug.
This is what it would be like with them. Everything would be a hot battle. She wouldn’t deny the idea of it thrilled her, made her blood sing in her veins.
But she had to diffuse this now, or it was going to explode and the collateral damage would be catastrophic. She forced a laugh. “It’s funny. You forget, I know all your tricks.”
He released her, scowling. “You liked it.”
“So what if I did?” She shrugged. “You’re pretty. You know that.” He got that cocky tilt to his head again, so she added, “Plus, I’ve had a dry spell.”
“Why are we friends? You’re terrible for my ego.”
“As if that over-inflated thing needs any help.”
“I’ve got something else over-inflated.” He waggled his eyebrows.
She rolled her eyes. “Bitch, please. You know, for dragging me to Atlantis, I’m going to drag you…” Morri narrowed her eyes. “I haven’t decided yet, but you owe me one.”
“Fine. But I’ll warn you, Aphrodite dragged me to get a manicure in some sort of weird payback and I liked it.” He looked at his nails. “Actually, I could use one now.”
“As if I would let you off so easily?” She snorted. “I know you. You’re a vain bastard and anything that makes you prettier, you’re into.”
“Uh, yeah. Hello?” He rolled his eyes. “Have you met me?”
This was going to end so badly. Best strategy here was to retreat. “I’m all of the sudden feeling tired. I think I’m going to crash at my temple and—”
“Oh no you’re not. You’re my wingman.”
She wrinkled her nose.
He sighed. “Fiiiiiine.” After another exhale, he said, “WillyoupleasecometoAtlantis?” He said it as if it were all one word.
“What? I don’t think I heard you.” He’d said please. He never said please. How was she supposed to tell him no?
“You heard me. I even said please.”
“I’ve got a bad feeling, Ares.”
“At least we’ll have some good stories. Hey, remember that time when… Then we’ll laugh and make more poor decisions.” He nodded with authority.
That feeling gnawing at her gut wouldn’t go away. “Ares, I’m not kidding. I’m not just dragging my feet. Why don’t we just stay in, get a pizza, and play some Fallout? I’ll go home and you can get a temple virgin. That’s a good plan.”
“It’s a boring plan.”
“Whatever. You’re the one who made me start playing Fallout.”
“No disrespect to Fallout. I’ll totally kick your ass after Atlantis.”
“Do you promise?”
“Yes.”
“No, I mean, really. You’ll be my ride back to Olympus and everything? No ditching me for tail.” Not that she needed him to get her back to Ambrosia Lane. She was a goddess in her own right, after all. She was no fainting maiden.
He held up his hand. “Scout’s honor.”
“You were never a Boy Scout.”
“I’m the God of War. It’s my godly duty to make sure you get home safe.”
“Fine. But I’m going to change.” She snapped her fingers and instead of the pink Donna Reed getup, she was wearing leather pants, combat boots, and a t-shirt that had the symbol for Pi pla
stered over a cherry pie.
She was still wearing the pearl necklace.
And the knot of dread in her stomach tightened.
3
ARES
M orrigan was being weird.
He studied her out of the corner of his eye.
It probably wasn’t all her fault. He’d been a little off himself. What had possessed him to grab her and…
She’d taken it in stride, too. Almost like she’d been ready for it. She hadn’t been surprised, and she’d been just as aggressive.
His cock responded and he exerted the iron will that made him an effective God of War and demanded the thing be silent. It had gotten him in enough trouble.
Ares wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t grateful she’d changed clothes. She looked more like herself.
Except, he found his eyes drawn to the curve of her hips in those leather pants.
And her ass.
By gods, that ass!
He licked his lips. He had to stop looking at her like that. It was a fluke, an accident… While he wasn’t the type of guy to ever feel guilty about his pleasures, or deny himself anything, if he pursued this, he’d be denying himself more than an orgasm. He’d be denying himself her—Morri.
He’d eventually get back together with Aphrodite and then all of her complaints about how much time he spent with her, how intimate their relationship was would have teeth. Then he’d have to choose.
He needed to get his head straight and a hook up at Atlantis would do that for him.
When they arrived at Atlantis, Poseidon had two frosty ambrosias waiting for them in a private room.
Managing a dance club/gaming hell/meat market/pleasure palace was not really what he’d expected of his brother when men had turned away from gods. But he seemed to wear it well.
“Drink,” Poseidon commanded.
Ares downed the brew without hesitation and sighed as the bliss rolled through him. “That was triple potency. Did you sleep with Aphrodite?”
“What? Why would you ask me that?”
“It would have to be serious for you to be so free with the comped ambrosia. What’s going on?”
Ambrosia Lane 1-3: Saranna DeWylde Page 49